I was so insensitive.
I took it the wrong way.
I’m so sorry.
Will you forgive me?
Let me explain.
This weekend, I started kvetching about not getting that many comments on my blog. Which is another way of saying not getting any comments. And no Likes either. No shares. Nothing.
I thought it was because you were arrogant.
That you didn’t care about how hard I worked at this.
That all you wanted is for me to just keeping giving it away for free and expect nothing in return, not even one measly comment.
Then today, I saw the light.
I read this piece on the Internet, and I realized that I wasn’t alone.
That I wasn’t the only Internet blog slave out there who didn’t get her props.
Now I understand why.
It dawned on me about halfway through the 600-plus comments the NY Times article received.
You don’t comment because you respect me too much to provide free content to my WordPress digital overlords.
It’s not just a statement of sisterhood solidarity. It’s one of complete and awesome artistic integrity on your part. And maybe even of compassion, especially if you once were an Internet blog slave yourself.
I sat glued to my chair all day and watched the Feedjit Live Traffic window, and saw alll of you coming in from everywhere, the South, the West, the Midwest, the Northeast, and, yes, even overseas, literally hundreds of you, and tears of joy starting flowing down my mascara-streaked cheeks.
I realized, at long last, that my life has some meaning, after all, and that you really do have plenty to say to me, and would, if not for my digital overlords.
Maybe I should do the same.
Maybe I should never write another post.
You know, pull the silent routine bit for a while, maybe forever. I used to be good at that with my father.
Until… until… I lost it on the Internet.
And now I just can’t stop.
There is one thing, though.
I was really happy and all to get all the page views, even though it’s my WP digital overlords who are making all the big bucks with the ads you see on my site, and I don’t mean to sound like an obsessive, spoiled, ungrateful Upper West Sider, but how come no one came to visit from Manhattan?
Is it.. is it something I said?
What an existence.
Erin McGrath and Needlepointland.com, 2012 – 2016